Darcy Lewis/ Jack Rollins
Darcy Lewis knew two things: 1- if this was how she was going to die, she really hoped her friends came up with a better story to tell about the circumstances of her death; and 2- the ass she was currently looking at was fantastic.
It had been exactly one week ago when a lackey had appeared at her office door to summon her to Coulson’s office. Waving away the new kid, Darcy went back to her work. Less than five minute later her phone started to ring incessantly. Huffing angrily, she picked it up.
“Lewis.” She barked.
“I requested you in my office.” Coulson’s monotone wavered slightly, meaning he had something to tell Darcy that she absolutely did not want to hear.
“Yeah, sorry Son of Coul, I’m super busy. All this paperwork the STRIKE guys rack up is tedious stuff.”
“Ms. Lewis, you are a paralegal, why do you even have the STRIKE team paperwork on your desk?”
“Well, I delegated all of my non- critical tasks, finished what you needed me to do personally, and then I got bored, and then it was Tuesday. So, when I popped down to the coffee cart, I looked for work to do. One of the guys from logistics mentioned that they can never get STRIKE reports in on time. I just went down to the training gym and shouted until I had an armful of STRIKE reports. I’m editing them all now. By the way, I’m really glad for what these guys do, but is there a basic G.E.D. requirement? Because some of those guys can’t write a cohesive report to save their asses.”
“Lewis?”
“Yeah, boss?”
“I’m sorry that I asked. Delegate the STRIKE reports to someone else with the appropriate clearance. Be in my office in ten minutes.”
“C’mon, Phil, I-“
There was only a click and dial tone on the other end of the line.
Handing out the unfinished reports to her assistant, Darcy briefly contemplated just going home for the day, but thought better of it. It’s not like she would make it out of the building anyway.
Grabbing her coffee mug, she turned to see STRIKE Commander Brock Rumlow leaning in her doorway, arms crossed and looking amused.
“Can I help you with something, Commander Rumlow?” Darcy knew the older man was all trouble, but she couldn’t help but look. He was a man that made trouble look worth it.
“Oh no, Ms. Lewis. Coulson asked me to make sure you made it to his office in a timely fashion. He seems to think you would keep finding little things to do until it was time to punch the clock for the day.”
Darcy was unsurprised that Coulson was so astute, but still a little peeved that she had been figured out so easily.
“Fine. But don’t stare at my ass on the way up the stairs.”
He held his hands up in mock surrender, still with his trademark shit- eating grin.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
As Darcy walked into Coulson’s office, she noticed that he wasn’t alone, and that Rumlow not only followed her into the office, but also closed and locked it behind him. The bastard had definitely been checking out her ass, too.
“Sir?”
“Ms. Lewis, perhaps you should sit down.”
“Phil, whatever it is just tell me.” Both Rumlow and the mystery man near the corner of Coulson’s desk raised a brow at her informality. Darcy forgot that most people were still a little afraid of Phil, and only a handful of people could get away with calling him anything other than Agent Coulson.
“There is an upcoming STRIKE mission, Ms. Lewis.” Phil finally said, sitting down heavily. “Commander Rumlow believes that you would be an excellent candidate for this mission.”
“Um, boss? I’m not a field agent. I did my required ten hours of field certification for the year, and I re-upped my handgun qualification. I think I’ll pass on this.”
“This is non- optional, Ms. Lewis. You’re going. Are you going to read the mission file?”
Darcy noticed for the first time that Coulson was holding out a file folder to her. She took it and flipped it open, trying not to look too hard at the ruggedly handsome man who had yet to say a word.
Paging through, certain things stuck out to Darcy. Political assassination, dirty work for sure, but that’s why they needed the STRIKE team. “I don’t see why you need me. This is not something I could ever be good for.”
“Keep reading, Darcy.”
A little unsettled by the use of her first name, Darcy read onward, until he reached the point where there was a party mentioned. A party where a single operative would stand out. A plus one was required.
“No.”
“No? I did mention this was non-optional.”
“Phil, I’m not doing this. There are other people who can play snuggle buddy with Commander asshole over there,” she thumbed vaguely at Brock who still looked amused. “and I know there aren’t many, but there are female STRIKE members. Pick one of them.”
As Darcy turned to leave, Rumlow stood up, blocking her path.
“Really? You can take me in a fair fight, but I will taze you so fast-“
“It’s not me.” Brock’s smirk had blossomed into an outright smile. It looked out of place on him. “Coulson here decided that I’m not the best specialist for this mission. We need an operative that's quiet, unnoticed. We need a plus one that can be boisterous, and captivating. So really, I’m just too charming as the operative. And while I'm sure Jackie over there and I could play a convincing couple, that would draw too much of the wrong attention. We need you, solare.”
“What?” Confusion bloomed behind her eyes. “Then who am I-“
“Me.” The big man by the desk rumbled in her direction.
Darcy turned to fully appreciate him. He was a gorgeous man. Tall and broad, with amazing light green eyes. The scar down his jaw made him seem all the more dangerous, which appealed to Darcy immensely.
“Darcy, this is STRIKE second in command Jack Rollins. He will be the operative for this mission, and you will be accompanying him to Minsk.”
“Minsk? Are you kidding me? I haven’t practiced my Russian in years.”
“Well, fortunately for you, Lieutenant Commander Rollins is perfectly fluent in both Russian and Belarusian.” Turning his attention to Rumlow, “Commander, if you could give us a few minutes, I will go over the mission details with you shortly.”
Brock stepped outside, leaving Darcy with Rollins and Phil.
“Now, Darcy-“
“Don’t ‘now Darcy’ me, Phil. This is going to be dangerous. I specifically took an office job for you after New Mexico because you promised you could keep me safe. Now you’re telling me that you’re sending me across the fucking world, with an agent I’ve never met, and I have no say?”
Darcy stormed out and headed back for her office to delay getting ready for as long as possible.
-------------------------------
Rumlow reentered the office.
“Rumlow, see to it that Ms. Lewis is aware that her safety is paramount, and that Agent Rollins is more than capable of ensuring her wellbeing.”
“Yes sir.” After Rumlow had left the office, Jack Rollins turned to Coulson.
“I’m pretty sure she already hates me, sir.”
“Darcy is just nervous. She nearly died in New Mexico, and again in New York. I promised that I would keep her safe. I’m entrusting her to you, Rollins. Do not make me break that promise. If you have to choose between keeping Darcy Lewis safe, and completing the mission, keep her safe.”
“Understood.” As Jack turned to leave the office, Phil cleared his throat. “Sir?”
“One more thing, Jack. I’m well aware of your personal interest in Darcy Lewis. I’m sure that you’re aware it was a factor in Rumlow’s choice of mission partner. You and I are both aware that he signed himself up with her to get a rise out of you. Do yourself a favor, get to know her. I think you two would be good for each other. She likes Italian.”
Jack frowned in confusion. He was too old for his boss and friends to play matchmaker for him. It was no one’s business that whenever someone got too close to Darcy Lewis he was there to make sure they backed way the hell off. It was his private business alone if flowers happened to end up on Darcy’s desk the few times she had been hurt.
Leaving the office, Jack headed to his quarters to get ready for the mission, trying not to think of Darcy Lewis, and how this could end badly for him.
-----------------------------------------
The party was a nightmare. Darcy had never had to be nice to so many fake and snobby people in her life. She had never appreciated the crude humor at the base more than she did now. At least it was honest. This ball for wealthy elites in Minsk was so full of bullshit, everyone may as well have been wearing masks.
Jack, to his credit, had been smiling, and pleasant, and full of laughter all evening. It was beautiful to see his face light up, but Darcy knew he was hating this. She knew that he wanted to be done and headed home. He had taken Darcy to the dance floor, and she was astounded to know that the man could dance, and very well at that.
“So, tell me, is ballroom dancing part of STRIKE basic training? Because I would pay real money to see that.”
Jack chuckled lowly in her ear. “No, princess, but it is expected that all senior STRIKE agents can accommodate any mission assigned to them. I would prefer easy in, easy out, dead of the night ops. But sometimes it has to be like this.”
As Darcy opened her mouth to reply, another man approached them, Darcy recognized him as the mark. She smiled sweetly, allowing him to cut in. Jack took his silent cue, and walked toward the bar. When he was sure no one was looking, he slipped behind the drapes and climbed to the second-floor railing.
Watching as the dance ended, and Darcy allowed her dance partner to lead her by the arm toward the bar, Jack noticed his target pass the glasses back and forth a few times. Thinking nothing of it, he waited for Darcy to be clear to take the shot. After a moment, he noticed that Darcy was out of sorts. She seemed to be having trouble keeping it together. Her glass slipped from her hand to the floor, crashing and drawing the attention of those near her.
Burning anger tightened Jack’s chest as he realized that Darcy’s drink had been drugged. When the target was making petty excuses about how she had had too much wine, and he should see her to her room, Jack saw red. Taking careful aim, he made his shot. Screams immediately erupted around the room. Jack broke down his weapon, hiding bits in various pockets concealed in his suit. As Darcy fell back, Jack was already moving down the stars towards her.
Making no effort to conceal himself from arising suspicion, Jack picked up Darcy and threw her bodily over his shoulder. Moving quickly toward the entrance, Jack saw armed guards taking aim. He ducked behind a sculpture in the foyer, and kicked out a window. Running as fast as he could across the lawn, Jack headed for the bag he had stowed earlier on. The hotel wouldn’t work, he was exposed now. Grabbing the phone inside, Jack carried Darcy to the first taxi he saw. Now he needed to get ahold of Control.
[safehouse?]
[dammit rollins]
[sooner would be better than later]
Once he had an address, Jack directed the cabbie to a place not quite caddy corner to the safehouse. Handing him a large bill and telling the driver to keep the change and forget his face, Jack carefully picked up Darcy. Once the taxi was gone. Jack made his way around the back of the building, where no one could see him enter. As he climbed the stairs, he tried to keep himself together. Lewis wasn’t helping by grabbing his ass and telling him how ‘squooshy’ it was.
Jack laid her on the bed, and messaged Coulson to get their extraction ready.
----------------------------
When Jack had showered, and redressed in more comfortable clothing, he headed for the safehouse kitchen. He decided that it would be better to make something now than to have to head back to base on an empty stomach.
After packing up enough food from the meager safehouse supplies, Jack started to clean up. He had nearly finished when he heard Darcy stirring. Surprised that she could even move yet, Jack went to investigate.
“Jack?” Darcy was all unfocused and slurring.
“Yes, Ms. Lewis?”
“What happened?” She could barely keep her eyes open.
“You were drugged, Ms. Lewis. You’re going to feel a little confused, and a little sick.” As an afterthought he added, “And probably like your body is made of lead.”
“I need to change, I can’t sleep like this.” She barely intelligible with her slurring, and she was struggling to motion toward the silvery ball gown she still had on. “Help?”
She looked so helpless that Jack was by her side before he realized he had moved. Knowing that she wouldn’t remember any of this come morning, he helped slide the dress down her curvaceous body, trying not to stare at her. Leaving her lingerie on, Jack pulled one of his long tee shirts over her. On her it was nearly down to her knees. Thinking briefly about how adorable it was, Jack tugged the blankets over her, and left her to sleep it off.
----------------------------------------------
When the morning light peeked into the windows, Darcy Lewis woke up with an overwhelming urge to pee. Once in the bathroom, Darcy noticed she was wearing Jack’s clothes, and could not remember the night before. Swallowing down a bit of panic, Darcy walked back to the bedroom. Jack was still asleep on the bed. Darcy sat on the edge of the bed, ready to cry. Her body was sore, like she had had sex, but she couldn’t remember anything.
Did I really have that much to drink? Would Jack really take advantage like that?
Not realizing that she was hyperventilating until she felt Jack’s arms slide around her waist, Darcy leaned into Jack’s chest and sobbed. She didn’t care how weak it made her look.
“What happened? I don’t remember anything, Jack. Did- did we--?” Darcy paused, and when it dawned on Jack that Darcy thought that Jack must have taken advantage of her, he felt like he had been punched in the gut.
“God, no Darcy. I promise you, nothing like that happened.” Lifting her chin to meet her eyes, he continued, “You were drugged at the party, but I got you out. You’re safe, I promise. Even from me.”
Darcy saw only sincerity in his eyes, but she couldn’t stop crying. Jack held her for several long minutes until the burner phone buzzed, signaling their extraction information. Picking it up, Jack relayed to Darcy, “Wheels up in an hour. Why don’t you grab a shower, and I’ll pack this stuff up.”
After Darcy had climbed into the shower, Jack felt like kicking himself. He had spent no time whatsoever trying to get to know Darcy. Instead he had had to reassure her that he hadn’t raped her while she was drugged up.
Staring out at the clouds, Jack didn’t notice Darcy slip up behind him. Turning he saw that while she had put on her own jeans and shoes, she had pulled another of his tee shirts from his bag. He smiled.
Cocking her head, Darcy said, “Those looked like some deep thoughts.”
“I was worried that I couldn’t keep you safe last night. Then I was worried about what you must have thought about me as a man when you woke up this morning.”
A flash of guilt went across Darcy’s face, and she reached in to touch Jack’s face. When he met her eyes again, she leaned in, pressing her soft lips to his chapped ones.
“I was terrified, Jack. But you protected me.” She smiled and pulled herself into his arms. “Thank you.”
“Darcy?”
She looked up at him, still obviously exhausted, but clear headed. “Yes?”
“Do know that Italian place back in DC? The one by the place with the bad coffee?”
“Yeah, Fiola Mare?”
“Yeah, we should go there when we get back.”
Darcy watched Jack’s eyes carefully. She knew that when a mission was over it was common for everyone involved to go for drinks, but Darcy was fairly certain that this was different.
“Jack Rollins, are you asking me on a date?” Darcy’s voice was all smiles, and Jack chuckled a bit.
“I think I am.”
“I think that sounds like a plan. But no drinks.” Darcy loved her wine, but she felt the need to steer away for a while.
Jack smiled, and leaned down to capture Darcy’s lips again. As he deepened the kiss, the Darcy moaned softly. When they broke apart, Jack had a smile on his face that made him seem so different from the man she had met in Coulson’s office.
Thinking that this could be a good thing, Darcy relaxed against Jack’s chest, and waited for their ride, thinking about how much she was looking forward to their date.